


Little Bud

by onemilliongoldstars



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Ft. training to be Heda Lexa, Stubborn Clarke, and far too patient mentor Anya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3530915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemilliongoldstars/pseuds/onemilliongoldstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The alliance with the Sky People hangs in the balance, which is why a young Lexa, waiting to become Heda, doesn't report the staggering blonde figure she sees wandering through Grounder territory. Instead, she follows her.<br/>"You are brave, sky girl. Courage deserves life."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Bud

**Author's Note:**

> the wonderful Jenna beta'ed this for me and I am in awe of her.

She breathes in the forest.

It fills her, inside and out, rushing through her body to lift her up until she is overflowing, tipping like a full goblet, fresh with the wild of the wind and the green of the moss. As one with the earth, as she should be. Every step she takes, she can feel the ground beneath her feet. Each gust of wind brings the trees and the grass and the leaves. In the distance she can hear the trickle of water running through a tiny brook, filtering through the earth to collect its goodness. It will join a larger river when it is big enough, the kind that runs through their villages and sustains her people; just as she will, when she is finally ready.

Anya says she is a bud, a fragile being on a vine, peeking its head out to catch the first rays of sunlight in the journey of her life.

She wants to argue. She doesn't feel like a bud. She feels like an oak, strong and firm, with roots planted solidly in the ground, reaching out far to feel the earth's embrace around her, the protection of cool soil. Death does not scare her. She will return to the earth from which she began.

Failure, however, scares her.

But failure is not an option.

So she listens to Anya, nods, grits her teeth and follows the path that has been set for her.

There's a slight rustle, the shifting of hooves and she slips downwards, turning to peer through the trees. There, in the distance, stands a stag proud and tall and she watches as it bends to drink, arching its beautiful neck. Her fingers reach behind, grasping for an arrow and she notches it smoothly, pulling back the string as her knuckles press against her cheek.

Her arm sings with the strain of the pull and Anya's voice sounds in her head, as clear as if she were standing right beside her.

_"Be still. Breathe."_

Shaking fingers steady and she opens her mouth to suck in a long breath of the forest's cool air.

The crack that comes from behind her startles both her and the stag, the creature jolting away and she curses softly, spinning to peer through the forest for any sign of intruders. There is stillness. Nothing moves but the wind, brushing the trees and the brook, still far away, singing its ever tuneful song as it fights its way through rocks and pebbles. If she were but a year younger she would shrug the sound away, but now she is older and she knows that no animal would make such a noise. It is too careless; no creature that had been raised in this forest would make such an error.

She stays where she is, fingers pressed into the wet bark of an oak, body leaning into it for coverage and watches, eyes sharp and expert. She slows her breathing, finds her centre and draws herself all the way in. She is rock. She is wood and water and dirt. One of her hands slides to rest, palm pressed down into the ground and she is part of the earth, feeling and watching and waiting.

The sound comes again, a little further to her right. Her brows furrow, her only movement as she focuses her eyes, watching the thickly foliaged trees. Even as her back begins to ache and her thighs scream for relief, she remains still. She is the earth and the earth will not be moved.

Her patience pays off. A figure, small and ungainly, staggers out from between the trees. Her run is strange, staggered and uncertain, and her gaze flickers back and forth. Her fear reminds Lexa of tossing stones into a still pond in her first village in the midday sun. The ripples would send the light bouncing, glittering over every surface and they would watch it, chase after it. This girl's fear is like that; manic, grasping, trapped.

With eyes like steel, Lexa watches her go, following her escape and slowly sliding up when the girl's back is to her.

No creature like that should be in these woods. She does not belong.

With steps as careful as a panther, Lexa follows.

The girl is staggering and her fear runs off her in waves, its stench pierces through the forest and hits Lexa hard. She wonders if her fear smells as this girl's does and hopes it does not. She couldn't imagine riding into battle beside her mentor with the stink of cowardice permeating the air around them; the shame would be too much.

The girl stumbles, tripping over a root and falling to the ground with a thump. She cries out so loudly that birds go flying from the trees above her and Lexa sinks down into the long grass to watch, confusion turning quickly to disgust as she lifts a puny fist and pounds at the ground, body convulsing in hot, desperate sobs. Her eyes crease and her nose wrinkles at such a sign of weakness, such a sign of fear. Who is this girl and why does she not know to hide her fears, as any warrior should?

It takes a few moments, but eventually the girl rouses  herself, pushing her shaking body up from the grass and walking on. Lexa tracks her for what feels like hours, watching the way that she moves, uneasy and afraid, jumping at every small sound and it is only when the dark, threatening clouds above open and pour the water of the heavens down upon them, that the girl finally comes to a stop, ducking into a cave to wait out the downpour.

Lexa is not fazed by the rain. It means little to her except that it will help the woods to grow and the forest to flourish. The souls of her shoes are flexible, easily adjusting to the new surface underfoot as she slips through the undergrowth, jumping swiftly from tree root to rocks, keeping herself hidden all the while. Her approach to the cave, however, will be harder. This place has been used for shelter many times before, most likely in the night when her own people's hunting parties are caught in the darkness and hide from the Reapers that sometimes roam these woods. Over time the many footsteps have worn away the surrounding forest, pressing down any coverage and so she is forced to slip closer along the rock face, pressing herself against it and edging ever closer until she is beside the tiny entrance.

As quiet as a breath, she notches her arrow again and checks that her hunting dagger is still secure in its sheath on her thigh, before twisting in one quick action around the cave entrance, bow string drawn tight, ready to fire.

The cave sits empty, like a gaping mouth taunting her and her eyes crease, the first wave of uneasiness running through her. With careful, measured steps, she makes her way inside, eyes darting as her feet slip into a steady pattern of circling, watching every corner.

The movement comes quickly, thesheer violence of it in such a small space taking her by surprise and she is knocked forwards by a body colliding into hers. She catches her step, tries to turn to grasp her attacker, but small, firm hands grab at her, twisting her arms behind her back. She arches, ready to throw her attacker over her, but freezes when she feels the sharp point of her abandoned arrow pressing against her neck, hard enough to draw blood.

"What do you want from me?" The harsh, angry hiss snakes through the cave, twisting around her legs and up to tighten around Lexa's chest as she heaves for breaths.

"Who are you?" Her words are harsh, rasped out against the arrow head, her voice catching as if on the sharp point and tearing into two, as delicate as the newly formed leaves of spring.

"None of your concern." The girl shifts and Lexa senses her weakness, feels it out in the darkness. She waits, silent, as the girl grows more and more uncomfortable, waiting until she moves again and in her movement throws her off, catching her before she can steady herself again and tearing one hand free. The arrow head presses hard to her skin, ripping through her flesh but she pays no heed. It is nothing compared to the broken bones; the snapping of nerves; the numerous burns that decorate her back, received with a grimly set jaw and the flash of iron in her eyes.

Her freed fingers move up to grasp at long, blonde hair, allowed to lie free and tangled around the girls shoulders and she yanks hard, pushing the girl away from her. In a moment, the tables turn and the girl is on the floor, gasping and struggling to arise and the arrow is tossed away, lost and forgotten in their tussle. The dagger is in her hand in a moment and she kicks the girl down when she tries to clamber up, dropping to press a knee against her chest and the sharp blade of the dagger to her slim neck.

The girl stills her struggling almost instantly and eyes like the ocean that she has only ever seen once before stare up at her, defiant over the fear. It's almost impressive.

"I am done playing games now," she informs the girl and in the dim light her eyes trace the strange clothing she wears and the paleness of her skin and a horrible conclusion forms in her head. "You are a _Sky Person_."

"I am." The girl spits, angrily, up at her and she stares at her, incredulous.

"You are across the boundary girl, you know what that means."

"I know." Her defiance continues, unbowed by the dagger cutting deeply into her supple skin.

The Sky People have long been an enemy to her people. They arrived years ago, in their flying machines, crushing villages and bumbling out of their metal crates like children, new to this world. They cut and burned and lived in fear of the world around them for many years, engaging in battles that killed hundreds on each side. Lexa was only a babe, but she remembers the smell of sulphur and the feeling of a hand grasping hers, pulling her into a run when she could barely walk. Her first run through the forest was accompanied not by the sound of the brook or the wind tickling the leaves with her tender tendrils, but by the rattle of guns and the thunderous crash of bombs.

For years they have lived in an uneasy peace, each sticking to their own carefully marked territory. There hasn't been a breach since the winter past, but now this girl sits before her, breathing heavily with hair like the sun and eyes like the sky and Lexa knows that while she is afraid, she is also brave.

"Do you wish to die?" Her dagger presses more firmly, drawing a warm trickle of blood and the girl grits her teeth, letting out a ragged breath.

"No."

"Then why are you here?" She is getting steadily more aggravated.

"I wanted to get away," she gasps, her breathing coming so heavily that Lexa is momentarily alarmed, easing away a little to frown at her, perplexed.

"What are you doing?"

"There... down there..." the girl gestures helplessly, slumping back when Lexa moves away from her, crouching by her side to run careful eyes over her body.

She finds what she is looking for almost instantly. How she missed it before, she has no idea. The arrow sticks high from the girl's thigh, embedded deeply within the skin and the dark feathers that top it mark it as one of her people's.

"You have been shot."

"I need you to-" the girl breaks off, gasping harshly and sucking in air as she waves a hand to the area. "Pull it out just... pull it out."

"Is that wise?" She is not a healer, but she has seen people die from loss of blood on the battlefield before.

"Here," the girl pulls at the flimsy clothing she wears, yanking at the cloth until it tears, ripping away a long, uneven strip to press into Lexa's unwilling hands. "Tie it round," she is gasping now, straining for breath against the pain, "create a tourniquet."

She holds the strip in her hands for a moment, looking uncertainly from the arrow to the cloth and then to the girl again, until a hand grabs at her arm, holding on tightly. "Please," the girl pleads with her, "take me back to your people if you want, have me killed for breaking the treaty, just _get it out_."

 _She is brave_. It comes to Lexa like a flash, like the burns patterning her back, hot and white and sudden.

"Hold still," she instructs as she wraps the strip tightly around her thigh, tying it as firmly as she can. "Prepare yourself," is all she says, as she wraps a hand around the arrow, finding a steady grip that will allow her to pull out the offending item in one motion. She notices that the girl, with nothing to hold on to, is digging her hands into the dirt, clawing at it and has twisted her head to one side, her neck a twisted knot of taut nerves and muscles as she waits.

She is impressed when the girl barely grunts at the removal of the arrow. Her skin rips and her whole body ripples like a shock wave with the pain, but the only sound is a high exhalation of breath as the arrow comes away whole.

With a heavy, breathless voice she says, "bandage it, bandage it," but Lexa is already doing so, pulling the bandages from her pouch to begin wrapping the wound. Healing is not her strongest suit, but she has managed enough injuries that she knows the clean the wound first, watching as the girl hisses at the splash of water she sends running through the gouge in her thigh before she cuts away the material of her trousers and starts to wrap the wound firmly.

There're a few moments of silence once she is done, as the girl gasps for breath, hands still gripping the dirt like the earth can feel her pain and Lexa takes a long drink from her flask before edging closer across the dirt, cupping the back of the girls' head and lifting it up enough that she can hold the flask to her mouth and drink without choking.

Ocean eyes snap open and stare at her, fixed to her as she sucks down grateful gulps of water and they stay that way for several long seconds, before the sky girl pulls away.

"Thank you," her voice is soft now, though her breathing is still slightly ragged. "you didn't have to do that... why did you?"

Lexa considers for a moment, watching as her hands slowly unclench from the earth and she heaves herself up to leans back on her elbows, pressing her lips together at the pain in her wound. "You are brave, sky girl," she says truthfully. "Courage deserves life."

"Thank you." The words are reverent, heavy with meaning and she feels them settle deep within her, somewhere near her heart in a way she has never felt before. She stands quite suddenly, making the girl jolt and looks down at her.

"You will be poisoned."

"Poisoned?" The girl's face goes slightly pale, a hand reaching down automatically to her leg. "What do you mean?"

"Every weapon is coated with poison, to kill our enemies." She reaches down to scoop up her dagger and then crouches back beside the girl. "We have a cure, I will fetch it for you."

"You will?" Her breathing is harried again and when Lexa's hand brushes against her forehead she can feel the clammy heat of death tightening its fingers around the girl.

"Yes, but I don't have long." She presses the dagger into the girl's hands. "Take this. I will be back before nightfall."

\----

The journey back to her village is swift and easy, practiced feet carrying her faster than she's ever gone before. She feels as if she is flying, as if the wind has wrapped her in her embrace and is pushing her forwards, blessing her quest. A version of the antidote lives within her normal pack and she roots through for it, pressing two vials into her pouch before spinning, turning on her heel only to stop dead.

Anya leans in the hallway, looking at her with deep, knowing eyes. They probe her, seeing all, and Lexa tries to stand tall, tries not to sink away from the gaze of the woman she respects most in the world.

Anya will know.

Anya always knows.

"Good evening, Little Sparrow."

"Good evening, Anya." She bows her head respectfully as her mentor comes close, circling her slowly.

"You are leaving the village again?" The question requires no answer, but she nods nonetheless. "You arrived at such speed, I thought something was wrong."

"No Anya, nothing wrong." The words are too fast, too harried, and she knows instantly that she has hurt herself with her eagerness to answer.

"Nothing wrong?" Anya raises an eyebrow, circling back around and she observes her carefully again. "You seem worried."

She forces herself to take a deep breath, to steady herself before answering calmly. "No, just eager Anya. I caught a stag and I would like to claim it before any other scavenger does. I just had to relieve myself of my bow before I could carry it."

"I see," Anya's eyes flicker away before resting on her face again and she runs her eyes over Lexa's face, her expression unreadable until she finally nods. "Go then, I shall look forward to a feast tonight."

Lexa only nods, slipping out around her and setting off at a sprint through the village.

Great, now she has to find a stag.

\----

"Drink it all." She tips the vial back encouragingly, even as the sky girl coughs and splutters beneath her, recoiling at the foul taste of the antidote. "You must drink." Her hand comes impatiently to urge at the back of the girl's head, pressing her forwards and the girl swallows the amber liquid obediently, drinking it down as she gasps.

Lexa sits back, laying her head down gently as the girl's eyes flicker shut and her breathing slowly begins to even out. As she waits, Lexa pockets her two vials, taking up her dagger from where the girl had abandoned it the moment she stepped through the cave mouth and playing with it between her fingers. Anya says it is a terrible habit, that weapons should not be treated as toys but she can't help it and what Anya doesn't know won't hurt her.

"Thank you." The sky girl's voice startles her and she nearly drops her dagger, catching the hilt as it falls.

"How do you feel?" She ignores her thanks, but watches without protest as the girl pushes herself up and manages to scoot along the cave floor, closer to the entrance so that she can sit beside her and Lexa can finally see her face it the light, so pale and vulnerable, young.

"Better," sky girl nods, reaching out to touch her skin tenderly around the wound.

"Why were you here?" Lexa peers down at her and sharp blue eyes, like ice this time, turn up to face her.

"Why did you help me?"

Lexa suppresses a smile, raising an eyebrow and staring her down until finally the girl huffs and says, slowly.

"I'll answer you if you answer me?"

"Deal." Lexa nods once and under her expectant look, caves. "You are demanding," she informs her, simply, but the girl just smirks, cocking her head to one side as she waits for more. Lexa considers, reaching out to pluck up stray pieces of grass from near the cave mouth as she speaks, considering her words carefully. "But you are also brave. I could see that, even though you cried and seemed to curse the world with your tears. Bravery is not often found in the Sky People."

"We are brave." The girl counters, frowning at her, "you have no idea what you're talking about."

"You cower behind your fences and walls," Lexa scoffs, shaking her head, "you run into this world bearing guns and bombs, you try to tear it apart before you can see the beauty it holds."

"We do see the beauty," the girl's eyes wander upwards, staring at the canopy high above them and watching as the stray beads of water from the rain collect at the lip of the cave mouth and drip ever so gently down. "It's you we're scared of. We have fought so hard to survive, to get to this world. You can't blame us for being cautious of what we have found here."

The words still her growing argument and she lets her eyes drift to the girl, watching her as she stares out at the forest, tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her nose and the blossom of her cheeks, not marked but the dark paint she wears.

"I suppose I hadn't thought about your survival." She admits finally, grudgingly, "falling from the sky would take some bravery."

"Many of our people died." The girl adds. "It was a sacrifice."

"And you?" Her eyes are still fixed to the sky girl, watching as she turns to look at her, eyes filled with the ocean meeting a gaze as dark as the earth. "Why are you out here, so far from your village?"

"I... wanted to collect berries." The lie falls flat, sitting heavily between them and Lexa raises an eyebrow until the sky girl is forced to turn away, her bare cheeks turning a rosy pink like the sunset before a beautiful day and Lexa is fascinated, watching the colour bloom and spread.

"You are lying." She states, obviously and the colour only darkens, much to her delight.

"Will you let me?" The question is open, vulnerable.

"Yes." A promise. "We all must have our secrets, sky girl. If this is too painful for you to tell I will only wish you well and advise that you travel back to your own camp when the day breaks."

"Thank you," the weight of her words settles once again into Lexa's chest, causing her to catch her breath and she pulls away abruptly, standing so quickly that she almost bumps her head on the cave ceiling.

"I must leave, I have to catch a stag."

"I see," sky girl nods, following her movements with a sharp, intense gaze.

A moment of hesitation wavers between them, Lexa's feet still on the ground and the girl's hand outstretched, as if to pull herself up or Lexa back. She knows that if she sits again, she will not get back up and so instead, she takes a faltering step backwards, reaching into her sheath to grab her dagger and toss it so that it lands blade down into the dirt beside her.

"Here." She nods to it, "to keep you safe."

"Thanks," sky girl picks the weapon out from the earth beside her and holds it in her lap with both hands, clinging to it like a babe does to its doll.

"Until we meet again, sky girl."

"It's Clarke," the girl corrects her and a small, tentative smile curls onto her lips, pressing them upwards.

"I am Lexa." It feels strange that something as important as names could have been forgotten in their exchange and yet they don't seem important. There is little difference between them really, except that she wears war paint, while the other girl leaves her cheeks open for the world to see. "Until we meet again, Clarke of the Sky People."

"Until we meet again."

She turns her back on corn coloured hair and eyes filled with the sky, striding away through the forest even as the wind whips at her, drawing her back and casting icy fingers against her cheeks and hands. She makes it only ten steps before a figure appears beside her, slipping from the woods with a careful ease that she herself can only dream of having.

"Anya."

"Little Sparrow," Anya greets her with a solemn gaze. "But where is your stag?"

"I... lost it." The words are awkwardly rusty, as if they do not belong to her and she struggles, searching for the right ones to replace them and yet none can be found.

"You have misplaced a whole stag?" Anya is less than impressed, she can tell.

"Scavengers must have taken it while I was gone." She shrugs, eyes fixed to the forest ahead of her as she walks.

"Lexa." Anya comes to a halt and she is forced to pause beside her, looking up at her mentor. "You have your bow. I thought you left that in the village? And where is your dagger?"

She gapes, hands coming up to trace the betraying string of her bow, slung across her body like a prize.

Anya, however, only laughs at her shock, "whoever she was," she speaks softly, "I hope she was worth it, because you'll be grooming my steed for a week."

"But..." Lexa flails, grasping for words and finding none. "I thought... I am to be the Heda, I cannot be so flippant with my duties..."

"Little Sparrow," Anya places a gentle hand on her shoulder, squeezing once. "You may think you are grown, but you are still a little bud. I fear you will be called to your destiny sooner than you think and I know that when you do, you will meet it with all of the courage and wisdom you possess, but until that day arrives you must treat your childhood as a delicate flower. Hold it, cherish it, for soon the winter frosts will take it away and you will wonder why you did not look at it more."

\----

Three days later she finds her dagger pinned to a tree along the border line and with it a blooming purple flower. She takes it with a smile and slots the daggers into its sheath and the flower into the braids woven deep into her hair. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting on here, what a rush. I go by onemilliongoldstars on tumblr, if you want to read more.


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